Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Like what?”
“Like jumping from the garage roof into a small plastic baby pool with like five inches of water in it. He wouldn’t do it, so I had to.”
“Did you get hurt?”
“Fuck yes, I got hurt. Broke my arm.”
“Ouch.”
“I also had a big mouth, so I’d get myself in trouble by bragging I could do shit I couldn’t actually do, but if Austin or anyone else called me out on it, I had to at least try to back it up.”
“What would you say you could do?”
“Once, I said I could fly.”
“Oh no.” She started to laugh.
“It didn’t end well.”
“I’m afraid to ask this, but how did you try to prove it?”
“I stood on the back of the couch and tried to grab onto the ceiling fan. I figured the momentum would get me going and I might fly for at least a couple seconds.”
“What happened?”
“I broke the fan. Got a bloody nose and a black eye.”
“And yet you’re probably lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“My mom was so mad. Even Austin got in trouble, for letting me do it.” I paused as my mind wandered toward memories that were less physically harmful but had left me with deeper scars. “When she got sick, things changed. I changed.”
In the silence that followed, the rain seemed louder. “How so?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of losing her?”
“Yes.” Thunder rumbled, shaking the knotty pine walls as I went on. “And then when my worst fear was realized, I started to be scared of everything. And I hated it. I was fucking mad. Then one day I decided enough was enough and if something made me afraid, I had to face it down. For instance, I never used to like deep water.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Especially in a lake where you couldn’t see the bottom. Heights? I was fine. I’d climb any tree, scale any wall, ride the tallest rides. But that deep, dark water . . . it was the unknown. I was terrified of falling in and just sinking into oblivion.”
“How’d you get over it?”
“I jumped into deep water at every possible opportunity. Practiced holding my breath as long as possible. Became a good swimmer—have I mentioned my swim team records at the high school?”
Her laughter was soft. “Not yet.”
“A few of them still stand. Anyway, after high school, I did the thing I thought sounded the hardest and scariest—became a Navy SEAL combat swimmer. I was good at it because I knew how to overcome the panic and focus on the job.”
“You learned to compartmentalize.”
“I faced my fears.” It seemed like an important distinction. “I’m not afraid of deep water anymore. Or anything else.”
“Just me.” She reached over the line of pillows and poked me in the ribs.
I grabbed her wrist. “Excuse me, ma’am, you’ve breached security one too many times today.”
“I’m sorry! It was an accident!”
“I don’t believe you.” I kept my fingers locked around her arm, feeling the vestiges of my self-control crumble. “I think you keep trying to tempt me on purpose after you promised you wouldn’t.”
She giggled. “I swear I’m not. Please don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad. But I can’t let you off the hook without some consequence.”
“Name it. I’ll do anything.”
“There you go again. Tempting me to do things I shouldn’t. I wonder if country music knows its sweetheart is so evil beneath the sequins.”
“They don’t know anything about me,” she said seriously. “What they get is an act.”
“But they love it.” I rubbed my thumb along her inner wrist, my body starting to hum. “And you’re good at it.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice. No one wants the real me.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Maybe one person does. But he’s giving me some trouble.”
“What a dick. Want me to fuck him up?”
“Yeah. Just enough to send a message.”
“What’s the message?” I brought her arm to my mouth and pressed my lips where my thumb had been. Her inner wrist felt like satin.
“That he doesn’t have to be afraid of me.”
“Maybe you should be afraid of him.” Tugging her closer, I kissed my way up her arm.
“Well, I’m not. I trust him.”
“Why do you trust him? What did he do to earn it?” My lips reached the curve of her elbow.
“I don’t know,” she said softly. “I just feel safe with him.”
Those words should have reminded me of my role as her protector, what my duty was, why I shouldn’t touch her. But they had the opposite effect—they pushed me over the edge.
Hitching myself up on my elbow, I flipped her onto her back, the wall of pillows trapped between us. I looked down at her face, pale and hazy in the dark. I felt her breath on my lips. “You are safe with me.”
“Xander,” she whispered, curling her free hand around my jaw and sliding it to the back of my neck. “Please let me be close to you. Even if it’s only for tonight.”